Make Haste Slowly
by Sass Master
Summary: CHAPTER THREE UP! Tifa and Vincent ponder a difficult question: one bed or two?
1. Festina Lente

**A.N.: A brand new VinTi from me! I'm just as shocked as you are. This concept kind of came to me one day, and it just grew from there. Yes, this IS a multi-chap! I repeat, THIS IS A MULTI-CHAP! Please, hold your applause.**

**Anyway, about the story. This is basically post-AC. But I'm being VERY non-specific because I know next to nothing about Dirge of Cerberus—I'm taking a LOT of liberties. Basically this is my idea of a post-AC timeline. Also, my understanding of WTF was going on in AC is also limited, so I'll be taking liberties in that department too XD But I know you won't mind. You're a good bunch. The reviews are proof of that.**

**This was so hard to write for me. Vincent is so damn hard to write:strangles writing gods: But I did it. It wasn't easy, but I did it. But please, I need lots of encouragement on this one. It's totally different for me and out of my idiom.**

**Thanks to all the usual people.**

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This was not an ordinary friendly visit. He had been spending quite a bit of time at the bar in the past months, due to her insistence that he come see her and the fact that he could no longer deny that he had grown somewhat lonely in his extended solitude. So whenever he felt a pang for affable surroundings or a pleasant conversation, he wouldn't hesitate to drop in.

But today had been different, an aberration from his normal unplanned visits. The ringing of his phone had sounded so strange echoing through the ethereal forests. His mind had jumped immediately to bad news when he answered it; so rare were his phone calls. He had been greeted by her voice, lovely in its familiarity but worrisome in its hesitant tone. She had called with what she had seemed to hope sounded like a casual request to come over, but he knew better. She had never done anything like that before. And if the sound of her voice was any indication, it was anything but an average venture. Anxiousness had formed a large knot in his stomach on his way over.

As he watched her travel about the bar with shaky movements, he decided his gut feeling was dead-on. However, his suspicion of something disastrous waned as he observed her. There was nervousness, even dread in her every step. No doubt about it—she had an ulterior motive for inviting him here. He couldn't help feeling a certain bitterness at the realization, but it was quickly replaced by sympathy. Something was eating her up inside—she quite clearly wanted to ask him something.

He had always been rather perceptive, and she was notorious for wearing her heart on her sleeve. The combination made her no less readable to him than an open book. Her hands shook slightly with trepidation as she handed him a drink, and her eyes widened in sudden insecurity. "This is what you wanted right?" she asked, unsure.

"Yes. Thank you," he said, taking a sip from the glass to prove his point. But he began to grow impatient, wishing she would cut to the chase and reveal her motivation for summoning him.

That wasn't to say he didn't enjoy her company. He _loved_ her company, no matter how uncomfortable it made him when he finally forced himself to acknowledge that. But he had pushed any possible budding feelings aside to cater to her crushed spirit. Things had been difficult for her since Cloud left.

Cloud… the thought of the man still incited feelings of distaste. He had always disapproved of the way that man handled the delicate relationships in his life, most importantly the complicated one he had with the woman behind the counter. But how he could toss her and the life he had aside for some whim that he himself didn't even understand… Vincent's blood boiled at the thought. Cloud had said that he was still looking for the life he was destined for, and he didn't think it was there at the bar, with the children, with her. Vincent wished him luck finding it anywhere else.

"Vincent…" she murmured, not looking him in the eye.

She looked so distressed and his heart went out to her. He wanted to make this easier for her, if it were at all possible. "What is it?" he asked quietly, trying to coax her into divulging the truth.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself to meet his gaze. "You know that things have been different since… since he left."

He frowned at her omission of Cloud's name, unhappy that the memory still caused her that much pain. "You've handled the situation very well. A lesser woman would have broken down completely a long time ago."

Her eyes fell to the floor again, grabbing a dishcloth and wringing it in her hands. "Th-thank you. That means a lot. But Vincent… it's just too much sometimes."

He watched her patiently, his silence his only signal that he was listening, waiting for her to continue.

"I could handle it when he was here, but now…" She trailed off again, sighing into a small and humorless laugh. "I guess you already know that I invited you here for a reason."

"Yes." A request was imminent, but he was still uncertain of what that request would be. If she wanted money, he would help in whatever little way he could, but he couldn't see why she wouldn't go to Reeve with such a plea.

She straightened suddenly, renewed resolve detailed in her countenance. "I'm… I'm asking you to come live here with me."

He wasn't quite sure if he was surprised or not. The prospect had not occurred to him, but now that it was on the table, it made perfect sense. The poor woman had been left by the man she loved with a business that was not meant to be run by a lone person.

"Please Vincent," He tried not to tense when her hand blanketed the one he had wrapped around his glass. "I need you."

His mind raced to a million different places at her words, not to mention the way she was practically begging him. But his more rational side told him that she didn't need _him_, emotionally _or _physically, she needed assistance. But even that point was ineffective, considering he had no idea what _he _needed.

"With the kids," she hastily added with a trace of embarrassment in her voice, as if realizing how her words sounded. "And the bar of course. And the deliveries," she said, eyes wandering. "The orders are really piling up…" she trailed off.

He observed her carefully, taking in her desperation and the vestiges of her heartbreak. "Tifa," he muttered. She looked startled at the sound of her own name. He reasoned it was probably because he didn't say it very often. Thinking of it now, he couldn't understand why—it was a very pretty name, very fitting of the woman it belonged to. "You realize that I do not make this decision lightly," he said with severity. "I cannot answer you right away."

"O-oh," she said, slowly pulling her hand away. "Of course," she insisted. "Take as much time as you need." She returned to wringing the dishcloth in her nervous grasp.

He drained the contents of his glass before placing it on the counter with a clink that seemed to boom in the tense and silent air of the bar. "I shall think about it then," he stated, pushing away from the counter as he stood.

"All right," she said gently, eyes following him as he walked towards the door. "But you don't need to lea—"

When her words caught in her throat he turned back to her, an eyebrow raised.

She shook her head. "Never mind. Just think about it, okay?"

He nodded, just once, and stepped out of the inviting bar and into the dark and confusing world of deliberation.

OoOoOoOoO

He fell into frustration as he stalked down the street. The helping of hard liquor helped his thoughts and emotions to flow a bit more freely, but they all stumbled over one another as his feet nearly did the same in his distraction. He had no idea where he was even going anyway. He could only think of one possible destination—home. But for some reason, he didn't want to call it home anymore. He couldn't imagine why he ever had.

Damn it all, he could think of hundreds of reasons why he should say yes.

First and foremost, he wanted to help her. His morals wouldn't allow him to ignore a friend in need. Tifa would do the same for him in a heartbeat, were the situation ever to arise. Perhaps it wasn't in his nature to be quite as selflessly giving as she was, but following her example couldn't be a bad thing. She was a kind and generous human being. It had only taken a short time for him to be aware of that. He'd do well to do things the way she would. He would feel like a better person, lessening that oh-so-heavy burden he always harbored, if he did her this favor.

And truth be told, maybe things _were _growing a little lonely in his… _very _humble abode. His location choice was as poignant as it was somewhat depressing, strategically situated within walking distance of both Lucrecia's cave and the City of the Ancients: Caught somewhere between the one he couldn't save and the one who had the spirit and the courage to do the whole 'selfless sacrifice' thing correctly and become a hero for it.

He hadn't the heart to actually stay in either place. He was sure if he remained in the Ancient City for too long he would run into Cloud. He did not wish to see that man, for fear he would say something foolish and hurtful in his desire to defend Tifa. And the idea of living in a cave where the ghost of Lucrecia dwelled was very unsettling.

His little cavern was a happy medium, perhaps minus the happy part. But a cave was no place for a person to live, even one who had spent thirty years in a coffin. That should have occurred to him much, much sooner. Indeed, a home with friends and _human interaction _was a far more appealing aspect, a large push in the right direction, an incentive to grant Tifa's request.

And of course, he was vulnerable to an ever-growing soft spot that he held for Tifa. He assumed that any man, any _person_ who met her would become enamored with her, but he had been in her presence a rather excessive amount. Every time he came to see her he wished he'd thought to come sooner. Every time he left he wished he'd stayed longer. And every time he was with her, he wished he could do something, anything to make her forget about Cloud and the mounting encumbrance he'd left her with. Yes, he could come up with many a method for just how he would put any other man out of her mind.

But every possible scenario he would think of for acting out that whim only served as a painful reminder of the one reason he absolutely could not accept to living with her—the one very important, very serious reason that trumped all the others; the one that plagued him even now.

Temptation. 

Oh, there was no getting around it. It was always there. It was worse when he was near her. And he _shuddered_ to think how bad it would be sleeping under the same roof as she was, perhaps in the same room from what the size of her home had led him to believe.

No, he wouldn't do that to himself. And he certainly wouldn't do that to her. A man harboring possible interest in her when she was still heart-broken over Cloud was the last thing she needed to have around—no matter how badly Vincent wanted to prove that he could fill the void that she was feeling.

Even as he thought of his motives for saying yes, he found them contrived and mildly pathetic. He _wanted _to have a reason to say yes because he _wanted _to live with her and _wanted _to be an important part of her life and _wanted _the opportunity to be more than just her friend and possibly her confidant. But that was as much a lame excuse as it was a dangerous prospect. He couldn't afford to give into want anymore. Not after where it had landed him last time.

Nevertheless, some annoying little voice in the back of his head nagged at him, telling him that Tifa would be worth it. She would be worth abandoning his safe, sheltered life, worth once again putting his heart on the line because he was a sucker for a beautiful woman.

But it wasn't just about him. He thought of her words earlier. She _needed _him. She didn't _want_ him. Anyone could help her out around the bar. He would even provide her with an assistant himself. It wouldn't be hard finding a man who wanted to spend a lot of time with her. His eyes narrowed even as he thought of that, but he quickly shook it off. There was no room for protectiveness and petty jealousy in his life.

So he wouldn't let them in. Those were certainly emotions he could do without.

…That was that then. He would have to stay here, in his meager but _secure _little existence. Of course. That was the only reasonable option… All he had to do was tell her. He eyed his cell phone briefly before deciding that it would be better, more respectful to tell her in person. His gaze swept over his residence, his shelter that was anything but a home, once more. He laughed bitterly as he turned and headed out. How could he even have _considered_ living with her? His mind reeled with cynicism. It would be a shame to leave all _this_…

He knocked on the door just once, surprised to find it locked, and waited for her to answer. It had been such a complicated decision to make, but the journey back to her bar had been enough time for him to confirm that he had made the right choice.

She looked a bit frightened as she opened the door. He could only imagine what kind of characters would pester her so late at night. She heaved a breathy sigh of relief when she realized who it was. "Vincent…" she said softly, letting his name hang in the air, silently asking him for an answer.

He braced himself. It wouldn't be easy to say, but he would take himself out of his comfort zone for her benefit. He looked into her desperate pleading eyes and took a deep breath.

"So," he began, a small smirk forming on his face, "Which bed will be mine?"

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**A.N.: There you have it folks. I promise I'll get back to Wild Ride after this. I think. That little 39 is still nagging me XD I'm honestly not doing it to torture you, it's just my own personal belief that once a new chapter is up, the chances of getting reviews for the older chapters goes down considerably. And so sue me, I'm enjoying having over 40 for all my chapters :P I can't help it.**

**But please, leave me some reviews for this one. It wasn't easy!**

And I apologize for the misleading summary XD After the numbers I got for Wild Ride I can't underestimate the power of a summary.


	2. Hora Somni

**A.N.: I apologize if this fic still seems a little slow. This chapter was originally supposed to include what will now be the third chapter, but I decided to keep it as it is so I could dedicate more effort to each scenario without worrying about the chapter being too long.**

**This is my half-assed way of promising that it will get better from here. XD I suppose I can't really promise such a thing, but just trust me.**

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The look of joy and relief on her face made his decision absolutely worth it. Her entire face opened up into incredulous elation. "You… you'll stay?" she asked with wide hopeful eyes.

He nodded once. "Yes, if that is what you wish."

When she broke into a genuine smile, he was suddenly very glad he had chosen to stay. "_Yes_," she said, grin broadening as she pulled him inside, as if in fear that if she hesitated he would change his mind and she would never get him back. She really was quite beautiful like that, smiling not because she felt she had to, but because she wanted to.

Once the door was closed, she wasted no time in throwing her arms around his neck and embracing him tightly. Months ago he would have practically _cringed_ at the open physical contact, but it was a habit he had since been forced to get rid of. Tifa was what he supposed many described as the 'touchy-feely' type. It had at first made him a bit uncomfortable, but he had speedily gotten used to it. Moments like these, feeling every curve of her body pressed solidly against him, had considerably quickened the process.

He returned the hug with surprising enthusiasm. She in turn squeezed him more tightly, holding him closer, and he could feel her contented smile against his chest. Taking a chance and being a bit bolder for her sake always seemed to pay off.

She pulled away and lapsed into silence, looking at him gratefully. He didn't mind. She could stare at him forever if she wanted to—as long as she looked happy. "Right," she said, abruptly switching to hostess mode. "You wanted to know where you'll be sleeping."

Her fingers were intertwined with his and she was leading him upstairs before he had a chance to protest. However, he most likely wouldn't have. Part of him knew that he was perfectly capable of finding his way around without being led by the hand, but an increasingly insistent part of his psyche was too busy enjoying the contact that she so readily offered.

"Umm, you'll be staying in my room. And well, it was Cloud's too I guess, when he was here, if you wanna think of it like that," she explained, pushing open the door at the top of the stairs.

When he saw the lone bed in the center of the room, he frowned for oh-so-many reasons.

She laughed weakly as he stared at the bed. "Yeah, there's only one… I didn't plan this out too well, huh?"

But that wasn't what troubled him. She and Cloud had been… sharing a bed? The concept was unpleasant enough to make him wish he had chosen to stay away. Not only was it maddening to think that Cloud was intimate with a woman he was so undeserving of, but it was positively infuriating that he could have left that woman without a word after sharing something so deep and personal.

Vincent's frowned intensified. A man of Cloud's character and experience was unlikely to have the capacity to treat that kind of closeness with the respect and care it needed. That no doubt explained why he was gone.

Tifa cleared her throat awkwardly at Vincent's brooding silence. "Well… there _used _to be two beds in here. You know, mine and Cloud's. Mine was over there," she said, pointing to the window side of the room. "When he left I thought, hey, I might as well take his bed, you know, cause it was farther from the windows and I get cold sometimes…" She trailed off but pressed on immediately afterwards, perhaps hoping she would say something that would pull him out of his reverie. "But then I thought… why have two beds and use only one, when I could have a big bed and have it all to myself?" she said with a feeble laugh. "…Maybe it was more like… an act of defiance," She shuffled her feet. "Got some pretty good money when I sold the twin beds… and then I bought this one."

Vincent's relief was immense. His most recent resentment towards Cloud was indeed a waste of energy, but his mind was so put at ease that he didn't worry about it. He wasn't sure why he should _care _whether or not Cloud and Tifa were lovers, but something made him glad over the heavily implication that they weren't. At any rate, he was proud of her for getting rid of reminders of Cloud. Disposing of his bed especially showed that she was not leaving a place for him in hope that he would return.

"I guess I should have thought about that before I asked you to move in," she said, smile seeming less forced as he dropped his fretful countenance.

The corners of his mouth twitched slightly in response. He really wished she'd smile more often. "I suppose you should have," he said with a teasing eyebrow raised.

"Oh well," she said with a faint blush. "Anyway, I'll take the couch downstairs, and you'll get the bed until… we get another one I guess."

He instantly shook his head. "I cannot take your bed from you. I'm enough of an intrusion as it is."

"Vincent," she said sternly. "You're not an intrusion. I _asked _you to be here. And that makes you my guest, and I'm not letting my guest have anything other than the bed."

"And _I_ would never allow a woman to sleep on a couch while I slept in her bed." His nearly forgotten code of chivalry was strictly against it.

She pursed her lips and the two stared each other down, both too courteous and too stubborn to accept anything other than what felt right to their consciences. Each one's morals were too strong to concede to the others.

"Well," she said with a soft sigh, gaze dropping to the bed, then the floor. "We could always _share _the bed…"

He blinked at her.

"I mean, we're obviously not getting anywhere this way."

His eyes darted to the bed and back to her.

"…It wouldn't _kill _us," she insisted.

A million forbidden thoughts raced through his mind at the mere idea of sharing a bed with her. His urges were easy enough to keep in check when he kept a considerable distance from her, both emotionally and physically, but this would be too much.

…What was that word he'd used again?

He watched Tifa lick her lips, waiting for a reaction from him.

_Temptation. _Yes, that was it.

If he were between the sheets with her, how long would it be before he had to give into the impulse to convert their definition of the term 'sleeping together' from the literal to the figurative?

Wouldn't kill _her_, perhaps, but it might kill _him_…

"No, of course it wouldn't," he affirmed.

She seemed to brighten considerably now that he had finally responded. "Exactly," she said nodding. "I mean, we must've slept next to each other at _some _point during the whole AVALANCHE thing, right?"

No, never. He would… remember something like that. "Right."

"We'll just… go look for another bed tomorrow."

"Very well."

"Hey," she said, stepping closer and touching him affectionately on the arm. "Are you hungry?"

"Starving," he admitted.

She smiled at his hyperbole. "Let me get you something to eat."

As she walked out of the room, he remained a moment to enthusiastically take in her apparel. She had discarded the layers of leather she had acquired since opening this bar. Vincent thought it was a good choice—those clothes hadn't really suited her, in his opinion. Her figure was much better appreciated when it wasn't swathed in thick fabric. Now she had adopted a style not unlike the one she had while they were fighting Sephiroth. 'The more skin, the better' wasn't generallya philosophy he believed in, but when that skin was just so enjoyable to look at…

"Vincent…?" Tifa's voice called from halfway down the stairs. A moment later she poked her head into the room with a playful smile. "Thought you were hungry."

"I believe the word I used was 'starving,'" he corrected with a smirk.

She put her hands on her hips with a look of mock annoyance. "Well whatever _adjective _you'd like to use, we can't do anything about it up here. Come on."

It may have been a tad superfluous for her to lead him upstairs, but he _definitely _knew where the bar was. This time when she held his hand, he knew it was entirely unnecessary. And that made it entirely more enjoyable.

He seated himself on a barstool, something that had easily become routine in his visits.

"Umm… is a sandwich okay?" she asked, opening the fridge and bending over to get a better look inside.

"Yes that would be…" His words were briefly lost when he caught sight of her form. "…Fine." If she leaned over any more he'd be able to see her—

She laughed a bit, turning away and combining the ingredients she took from the fridge. "I wouldn't really be able to offer you much else anyway," When she turned back to him, he noticed that her smile disappeared just a quickly as it had formed. "…Cloud actually used to do most of the grocery shopping. It was easier for him to do it, because he was out all the time anyway," She pushed a plate towards Vincent, resting her elbows on the counter and heaving a sigh. "It was… nice having him around to do those kind of things," Her eyes dropped to the counter, watching as she dragged her fingernail in aimless circles on the wooden surface.

Vincent ate in silence. She would often lapse into pensiveness this way, whenever she thought of _him_. All Vincent could do was wait patiently and let her say whatever she wanted to say. Sometimes she would go on for nearly an hour. Sometimes she grew almost indignant. Sometimes she would begin to cry.

During those times, he wished he could hold her, soothe her, do anything to take her pain away, make her forget that Cloud ever existed. But she was still too fragile and he was still too unsure.

"Well…" she said, a smile forming on her face. "It was _convenient _having him around anyway."

He was beginning to rethink his current assessment of her feelings. She wasn't completely over Cloud, and it would have been hypocritical of him, of _all_ people, to expect otherwise. It had taken him long enough to accept that whatever longing he felt for Lucrecia would only destroy him from the inside out.

Perhaps Tifa was on that same path as well. Her little jest at Cloud's expense showed immense promise. Maybe it would take a little insistence on Vincent's part to get Tifa to regard Cloud as nothing but a distant memory.

Tifa giggled. "But now I can make _you_ run out and do things for me," she teased, leaning close, allowing him to see the amusement in her eyes.

His gaze was once again tempted into traveling well below face. He hadn't _really _noticed the way her shirt exposed an ample amount of cleavage, or at least he had been trying _not _to. But when she hunched over on the counter like that, his baser instincts _told_ him to notice, almost abandoning any notion of being surreptitious.

…And he was going to be sharing a bed with her, while she wore her no-doubt revealing sleepwear? Oh God…

"It's not necessary that I run out. I can… do things for you wherever you want." There was innuendo in that statement and he knew it. The question was, did she?

But just then her eyebrows rose. A smirk appeared on her face and he donned one to match it. "That's an enticing offer," she admitted slyly. Her tone had become a bit subtler, more seductive to his now over-active imagination. "My last housemate wasn't quite so…" She paused, obviously for effect. "_Generous_."

He leaned closer as well, allowing his voice to become a little less casual and a little more seductive. "I aim to please."

"Whenever I ask?" she said, also leaning forward with interest.

His eyes were once again helplessly drawn to her ever-descending neckline. "Absolutely. I am at your beck and call."

"Hmm…" she said, taking his empty dish and putting it in the dishwasher. "Then you'd better be ready when I decide I want you for something."

He was ready already.

"We should get to bed," she suggested. "It's getting kind of late."

"Yes, it has been a long day."

She placed her hand on his arm again when they reached the landing outside the bedroom. "I'm gonna go change in the bathroom. You can have the bedroom."

Before he could get a word in she had darted into the bedroom to retrieve something to change into and the bathroom door swung shut in his face. He retreated and sat down on the bed.

When she emerged a few minutes later, he was dismayed, but admittedly very pleased, to find that his prediction about her sleep attire was entirely correct. Perhaps her nightie wasn't overly tight or skimpy, but the material was paper-thin. It clung to her skin when she moved, painting a very clear picture of the body underneath it.

He opened his mouth to speak but the words were lost somewhere along the way. To his surprise, she cut him off.

"Yeah I know," she said, "I just realized you didn't bring anything with you."

"Yes. I just wanted to tell you that I was going to leave and get some of my things."

"No, no, no," she said, sitting next to him with a slight laugh. "Don't be crazy. Stay here."

He eyed her with a bit of skepticism, without turning towards her. "I will need something to sleep in."

She nudged him. "No you don't."

He couldn't help but smirk at her words. "Why…" he questioned huskily. "Do you have… _plans _for me that don't require clothes?" It couldn't hurt to ask.

"You know what I mean!" she said, promptly blushing in a way that made him wonder if the answer to his question was a whole-hearted _yes_. "Just make yourself comfortable. It's only for one night," She reached to her night table for a bottle of moisturizer. "There's some stuff of Cloud's in the drawer over there too."

Wearing anything of Cloud's was out of the question. Aside from the fact that he was against the idea in general, he and Cloud were simply not of the same size. So Vincent opted to 'make himself comfortable,' as she suggested.

Now… how was he going to do that?

He normally slept in his underwear… or less. That too was out of the question. He'd figure something out. He was relieved had hadn't _completely _gotten into the habit of sleeping in the nude. If that were the only way he could be comfortable, he'd be in a bit of trouble.

He started by pulling off his bandanna, getting up and crossing the room so he could place it on the dresser. There, that was one garment out of the way. Kicking off his shoes, he decided that his cloak would be next to go. He certainly couldn't sleep in that. He started undoing the buckles, slowing down considerably when he looked at Tifa again.

She had placed a foot up on the nightstand so she could better apply the lotion to her legs. Her already short clothing had ridden high, and he took a good look while he knew she was turned the other way. He wondered if that moisturizer really made her skin feel as soft as it looked.

He went to the door to hang his cloak on a hook, and looked down at his shirt. That wouldn't be 'comfortable' either. He discarded it and hung it up with his cloak. His hands automatically went to his belt, He started to unbuckle it, knowing that thick leather would be worse to sleep in than even a heavy cloak.

As he undid the button, he noticed Tifa's eyes on him. Her mouth was slightly agape, and she blushed quickly and looked away. He was also a bit embarrassed as he realized he had been effectively stripping in front of her, without even any warning.

But the pants had to go. He was reserved when the moment called for it, but he wasn't going to go as far as sleeping in those damn stifling pants. Besides, she didn't seem to be complaining. He hung them over a chair and sat on the side of the bed opposite her.

"…Can I turn the light off?" Tifa asked quietly.

"Yes," he said, taking one last moment to will away every dirty thought he was having before sliding between the sheets. "Go ahead."

The room plunged into darkness, and Vincent stared at the barely-visible ceiling, not feeling much like sleeping. This wasn't really how he pictured his first time in bed with her.

He heard her let out a soft moan as she finally found the right position on the bed.

…Well, perhaps there were a _few _similarities between fantasy and reality. Absence of former love interest—check. Lack of clothing—definite check.

He cast that thought away and turned on his side, inching as close to the edge of the mattress as he could without falling out. The bed really was smaller than it looked. He had at first thought that Tifa was already halfway into slumber, but he suddenly sensed her unrest.

She shifted so she was facing his back. "Vincent…?"

He turned over to look at her as best he could through the darkness, trying hard to study her face as she hesitated. There was something she wanted to say but was afraid to. He had seen that look so many times.

"I just…" She paused in a final effort to decide if she should voice her thoughts. "…wanted to say goodnight," she finished lamely.

He wished she'd had the courage to say what she had been thinking. "Goodnight Tifa."

She smiled faintly and turned away again, and he did the same.

Through the corner of his eye, her figure was clearly visible even beneath the blankets, and he fought unsuccessfully to keep his mind out of the gutter. He would be okay this first night, he decided. It would be difficult, but he would prevent himself from acting on hormonal inclination. But it would only be a matter of time before he could no longer resist the impulse to touch her, kiss her, undress her. That would have been a concern even if they had been staying in separate rooms.

He could only imagine the dreams that would be visiting him once he fell asleep.

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A.N.: Thanks to all the usual people. Winde for beta-ing, Steph for convincing me to stop there. I think it'll work about better in the end.

**Please, click that little review button. These numbers are pathetic compared to Wild Ride! XD**


	3. Memores Acti Prudentes Futuri

**A.N.: Just a few quick unimportant things. I'm the first person to complain that people are ruining my fun when they say that Vincent's claw is just a prosthetic. The claw is so damn cool. BUT, it's hard not to appreciate the idea of Vincent having two full functional hands XD So basically, in Wild Ride, the claw's just a claw. In this one, not so. Just to do something different than what I normally do. Enjoy.**

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He awoke to a soft hand touching his shoulder.

"Hey," he heard Tifa say gently. "I'm going to go start breakfast. Why don't you go take a shower?"

Her suggesting a shower only reminded him of the dream he'd been having. He groaned and stretched, and only then did he notice her appearance. She had obviously just come out of the shower herself, wet hair clinging to her shoulders.

"Get in there now or you're gonna miss breakfast," she warned. When he still made no effort to move and pulled the covers over his head, she prodded him playfully in the back. "You like it hot, don't you?"

"…What?" He lifted the sheets up a bit so he could get a look at her face.

"Your breakfast. It'll get cold if you take too long. I'm not waiting for you," she threatened with an obvious teasing note in her voice before turning on her heel and exiting the room.

Tossing the sheets aside and grabbing his clothes on his way out the door, Vincent made his way to the bathroom.

He sighed as he showered, succumbing to taunting déjà vu. The last time he'd been thinking of taking a shower, he'd been picturing that she was there with him. He sighed again, turning off the water and resting his forehead against the tile wall, letting his eyes fall closed. Willing away fantasy would be difficult, but—for the moment, at least—entirely necessary.

He dressed quickly, wishing he'd brought clean clothes. Then again, he'd come to the bar last night with every intention of turning her down and returning to his solitude. He didn't even really remember changing his mind. But he certainly wasn't going to go back now. Security be damned, he was glad he was staying here.

He had initially planned to skip breakfast so he could set out early and retrieve his things, but the delicious smell coming from downstairs convinced him that maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to stick around. He hadn't ever been disappointed by Tifa's cooking.

He stood at the bottom of the stairs for a moment, just watching her before she would realize he was there. She was cooking and seemed to be having a good time of it, smiling and humming faintly to herself. She had dried her hair since he'd last seen her, and he admired the way it swayed from side to side as she moved about. He really enjoyed watching her like this, completely at peace in her natural element.

Suddenly he heard small footsteps descending the stairs and Marlene appeared before him. "Hi Vincent!" she said, causing Tifa to finally notice his presence and acknowledge him with a smile. "Are you gonna live with us now?" Marlene asked curiously.

He looked at the girl fondly. "Yes, I am."

She beamed at him, stepping forward and taking hold of his cloak, giving it a few tugs. "So can I hide under here when Denzel's mean to me?"

Vincent frowned. "…Does that happen often?"

Her grin disappeared just as quickly as it had formed. "He gets mad a lot now. I think it's 'cause Cloud's gone."

Vincent wondered if Tifa had told her that, or the girl was just extremely intuitive. He was jarred from his thoughts as more footsteps sounded.

Marlene let out an exaggerated gasp. "Here he comes!" she exclaimed, darting to Vincent's side and letting his cloak partially obscure her from view.

Denzel arrived downstairs and Marlene stared at him defiantly, as if nothing he could say or do would hurt her as long as she was in her hiding place.

She received an exasperated look in response. "That's stupid, Marlene," he said moodily before stalking off and sitting at the table.

Vincent looked down at Marlene, afraid that her feelings had been hurt. He was impressed to see that she was fine, more understanding and sympathetic of Denzel than hurt by his actions.

She seemed to forget about it rather quickly anyway. "Hey Tifa!" she said, speedily leaving her safe refuge to rush to Tifa's side. "Are you making pancakes?"

Tifa laughed slightly and nodded. "You betcha."

"Can I help?" the little girl asked eagerly.

"Well," Tifa said, stacking pancakes on a platter. "I'm all done with the pancakes, but you can help me set the table," she suggested.

"Uhmmm…" Marlene said, hesitating and making a face. She clearly wasn't keen on doing that chore.

"I will do it," Vincent offered, and was altogether far too happy with the pleased look he got from Tifa.

"Thank you Vincent," she said smiling.

He rounded the table with plates and silverware. Denzel only spared him a few passing glances, and they were anything but friendly. Vincent knew he was being resented for filling the gap left by the absence of Denzel's so-called father figure. If he was going to be living with them, Vincent would _like _to have a better relationship with the boy, but at the same time he found the child's anger at him somewhat justified. Vincent knew that as a child he probably would have reacted the same way.

It was rather silent when everyone was seated at the food was finally served. Vincent wanted to make conversation, but somehow found it awkward to do so with the children around. Their normal conversations were usually late at night, long after the kids had gone to bed. The atmosphere was entirely different. He supposed he'd have to get used to being around during the daylight hours. To his surprise, he was rather looking forward to it.

Tifa cleared her throat. "Denzel…? Denzel… aren't you going to have any?"

Vincent suddenly realized that he'd been looking at Tifa the entire time. He turned and noticed that Denzel had only been picking listlessly at his food, not even tasting it.

"No," the boy answered, "I don't want any."

Tifa frowned. She tried to convince him again. "…Honey, you have eat _something_," she said with a hint of desperation in her voice.

"I'm not hungry," he said stubbornly.

Tifa stared at him for a moment and seemed to decide that her efforts were futile. She sighed almost inaudibly, letting her eyes drop to her own plate. She nearly jumped a foot in the air when a loud honk sounded outside.

"Oh!" she said, leaping up. "We're running late kids. Come on, get your stuff or you're going to miss the bus."

Vincent watched the three of them frantically scramble to collect books and backpacks. Tifa stopped Denzel on his way out the door. She fussed with his hair affectionately, trying to smile. "Have a good day, okay?"

"'Kay," he mumbled halfheartedly and went out the door, Marlene following close behind.

"Marlene?"

"Yeah?"

Tifa bent down to her level. "Try to make sure he eats something at lunch?"

Marlene nodded. "I'll try."

"Thank you sweetie. Have a good day. I'll see you after school."

"Okay. Bye Tifa," she said, walking outside. "Bye Vincent!"

The door slammed shut and Tifa sighed. She turned to Vincent, shaking her head slightly. "Denzel hasn't really been eating since Cloud left," she started to clear the table, and he immediately volunteered to help her. "At first I was a really worried about him, but—oh, don't throw that out," she said, referring to Denzel's plate. She took it and put some plastic wrap on it and stuck in the fridge. "But then Marlene told me that he comes down here in the middle of the night to get something to eat… so I make sure there's something here for him," She looked thoughtful for a moment. "I guess he just… doesn't want to eat with the family."

Vincent wondered why she felt she had to be apologetic for the way Denzel was dealing with his sadness.

"So…" she said, suddenly putting on a smile. "What do you want to do today?"

He immediately regretted that he already had plans for the day. He'd have liked nothing more than to stay there with her… alone… but there were things to be done. He looked apologetic. "I'm afraid I have to go back for my belongings and take care of a few other matters."

She smiled. "That's okay. I've got some things to do around here, and some shopping I think. Maybe see about getting another bed."

He sincerely hoped that she wouldn't. "All right then," he said, nodding and heading towards the door. "I may be back late."

"Oh!" She stopped him by seizing his arm. "That reminds me," She reached into her pocket and fished out a key, firmly placing it in his hand. "You'll probably be needing that."

He smiled faintly. "Thank you. I will see you tonight, perhaps tomorrow morning."

To his surprise she looked crestfallen. "You might not be back until tomorrow?"

He faltered. "Only… only if something urgent should come up," he assured her.

Her smile suddenly returned. "Okay. I'll see you later then."

How he hated to leave her all by herself in that bar, and to go back to his sad excuse for a home, no less. He took a deep breath as he stepped outside, pocketing his key and preparing for the journey to collect his effects.

When he had everything packed and squared away, he took a moment to observe the empty cave. This was no home for a man, even one that shared his body with demons. He happily bid that pitiful existence a long overdue farewell, and began the second leg of his trip.

He felt such a strange need to say goodbye to the Sleeping Forest and the Forgotten Capital, and he wasn't entirely sure why. He had spent so much time there when he'd been wandering, caught somewhere between submitting completely to the past and seeking company and absolution. He'd chosen the latter, and he wanted to make it known by ending the reclusive side of him for good. He left a flower for Aeris and then abandoned his isolation to pursue a sense of friendship and belonging.

Part of him was also hoping he would run into Cloud, so he could let it slip that he was moving in with the beautiful woman that that fool had left behind.

The last thing he had to deal with was the most laborious and the most important. He stood, indecisive, near the entrance to Lucrecia's cave. He had already taken a step inside when he abruptly stopped himself. He didn't want go in there. He didn't want to go in there ever again. Returning to her to say goodbye would not be the kind of closure he needed. It would only cause him to fall into old and painful habits.

Several hours later, his work was done. It had taken a few transformations and explosions to do it, but he was finally satisfied. With boulders effectively blocking the entrance to the cave, Vincent was at last assured. He would not be going in, and no memories would be getting out.

He sat on his luggage to rest for a moment before pulling out his phone and calling a pilot he hadn't spoken to in a while. Cid made it rather clear that he was begrudging doing him a favor.

Vincent kept mostly quiet on the airship, for lack of anything to say.

Cid eyed him with exaggerated annoyance. "You just call me so I can be your fuckin chauffer in the middle of the goddamn night? Do you know what fuckin time it is?"

"You were still awake."

Cid was about to counter with something that was no doubt excessively vulgar, but he stopped. He was notorious for being unable to keep things to himself, but Vincent had always seemed to be the one person who could glare him into keeping his mouth shut.

Cid grunted. "Where the fuck're you goin anyway?" he said with slight suspicion, not quite daring to look the other man in the eye.

Vincent wasn't sure how he should answer. "Edge."

"What, did you finally get an actual house instead of livin' in a goddamn cave?"

"No."

"Well then what're you carryin' around all that shit for?"

Vincent narrowed his eyes a bit. Cid was being bolder with him than he usually was. The airship was slowing and lowering to the ground, and Vincent rose to his feet with his things in hand. "Thank you for the ride Cid," he said, swiftly making an exit.

He by no means was embarrassed about moving in with Tifa, but he didn't want other people in his business. He was also fairly certain that she didn't want the others involved just yet. He would allow her to inform other people when she was sure she wanted to. He couldn't deny that he was shamelessly curious about how Cloud would react to the news.

The key felt strange in his hand, and when he put it in the lock, he was convinced for a moment that the lock wouldn't open and that would be fate's little way of telling him that this wasn't supposed to be there.

But it opened, and he stepped into a dark and silent house. He glanced at the clock and frowned—it was much later than he'd thought. He set his things down near the door, deciding that he would make far too much noise trying to drag them upstairs.

He was careful to make as little sound as possible while opening the bedroom door.

"Vincent?"

He was startled to hear her voice. "Yes. I'm sorry for waking you."

He heard a faint chuckle. "No, that's all right. I was awake anyway."

Something in the back of his mind told him that she'd been waiting up for his return. In the darkness of the room, he shed his clothing, like the night before, down to his underwear, and crawled under the sheets. He heard her sigh, settling in.

He shifted to the edge of the mattress, listening to her breathing beside him. He felt her roll over towards him.

"…Vincent?"

"Yes?"

There was a pause and he knew she was once again debating whether or not to say what she had in mind.

"You… you don't have to sleep all the way over there."

He looked over his shoulder, trying to make her out in the darkness. He knew at once that there was more to her suggestion than concern for his comfort. He turned over and moved towards her, and she immediately met him halfway.

They lay together, face to face, and he was faintly surprised when she rested her head on his chest, letting the rest of her body cuddle against him. "…I still get cold sometimes," she admitted. Her hand came to rest on his waist. "Oh," she said, suddenly noticing his lack of dress. "Weren't you going to bring something to sleep in?"

Right… he had said that, and somehow he still ended up half naked with her in a very compromising position. Was he that eager to tear his clothes off and jump in bed with her? And why hadn't he even considered sleeping on the couch when she wasn't around to talk him out of it? "…I'm sorry," he said, too distracted by the feel of her body against his to come up with some sort of explanation.

She giggled slightly, and as his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room, he could just distinguish her shy, mischievous smile. "I wasn't complaining."

He very badly wanted to kiss her, but he knew that his better judgment had already taken a desperately needed vacation. He cursed himself for not being able to give into his primal impulses as her hand trailed down his arm.

She reached the metal claw and stopped. "…You sleep with this thing on?"

"Yes."

"Is that even comfortable?"

"…No." He hadn't taken it off since he'd gotten it. For a while it had been useful to have, but now he was just so used to it that—

"Then take it off," she urged, already undoing the clasps and sliding it off, pushing it to the floor with a thud.

His hand felt strange without it. He hadn't quite realized just how stifling that damn thing was until he felt how cool the air was. It was a relief, when he thought about it. He flexed his fingers experimentally before Tifa grabbed his bare hand.

"Doesn't that feel better?" she asked, relinquishing his hand too soon for his taste and letting it return to his waist.

"Yes," he said, giving into one of his less risky whims and allowing his hand to rest upon her waist as well. It wasn't there for long before he was trailing it up her arm, loving the feel of her skin and enjoying that she was the first thing he was feeling with that hand after all those years.

She exhaled slowly. "I'm glad," When his hand had finally settled on her waist again, she leaned closer into his embrace. "Goodnight Vincent," When she spoke, he could feel her breath on his skin. He decided that this was much better than sleeping on the edge of the mattress, at serious risk of falling off.

Drifting off to sleep, Vincent realized that Tifa made no mention of another bed. Perhaps she had forgotten. But if she wasn't going to bring it up, then he certainly wasn't.

One bed seemed to suit them just fine.

XXXXXXXXX 

A.N: That's all folks. Big thanks to lady winde for betaing. Next chap may take a while, as I haven't quite mapped out where to go from here XD But I shall get there. Please leave lots of reviews in the meantime. …Still need one more for chapter 7 on Wild Ride. Just thought I'd put that out there.

**(God I'm shameless.)**


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